


The Butterfly Effect

by supersonicsidekick



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-14 20:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11790414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersonicsidekick/pseuds/supersonicsidekick
Summary: It happened in an instant. One moment Gordon was being escorted by Batman to the Clocktower. The next, he was being hauled into one of the Militia's APCs, Batman nowhere in sight.(AKA the Batman: Arkham Knight AU where the Arkham Knight and his Militia are successful in capturing Commissioner Gordon.)





	1. Commissioner Gordon

It happened in an instant. One moment Gordon was being escorted by Batman to the Clocktower. The next, he was being hauled into one of the Militia's APCs, Batman nowhere in sight.  


They tossed him to the back of the vehicle, where he was promptly sandwiched between two imposing brutes, both with biceps bigger than his head. He was unable to move without being noticed, much less reach the door. He wasn't getting out of this, not on his own. Luckily for him, he had the device Batman had given him earlier. He wasn't exactly sure how to use it, Batman always made his tech overly complicated, but when he figured it out-

 

“The Knight said to check him. Make sure to get rid of anything the Bat can use to track him.”

 

At the driver's words, the brutes he was situated between began to pat him down. There went the only chance of contacting Batman-and his cell phone and gun. There was nothing to do now but accept his fate.

 

He sat back, waiting to be blindfolded and bound, like the countless other times he had been hostage. But the minutes ticked by, and he was left untouched. Gordon was surprised, to say the least. If it was anyone else, he would have assumed it was a rookie mistake. But one look at these guys told him that they were definitely professionals. It had to be deliberate. He wanted to simply disregard it as cockiness, but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling gathering in the pit of his stomach.

 

Suddenly, the APC stopped, directly in front of an old, abandoned shopping mall. It wasn't at all what he had thought the Arkham Knight’s Headquarters would look like. Maybe he had seen too many spy movies, but he had been expecting something along the lines of an underground bunker.

 

The mall’s shutter door opened, revealing a group of three militia soldiers. Two were wearing what Gordon assumed was the standard issue armor, one holding a gun, one unarmed. The third was wearing similar attire, except black and white, a mask covering their face and a sword sheathed at their side.

 

The unarmed soldier stepped forward. “About time Rodriguez. We were starting to think the Bat got you.”

 

“Please. Like he even stood a chance.”

 

The soldier with the gun laughed. “Modest as always.”

 

The brute on his right opened the door and dragged Gordon out of the car, surprisingly gentle considering the situation. The second brute joined them, firmly gripping Gordon’s shoulders.

 

“See you guys when this is all over. I need to resume patrol.” And with that, the APC speed off.

 

The unarmed soldier went straight to business. “Nickerson. Epps. You're needed in the briefing room. We’ll take it from here. Knight’s orders.”

 

One of the brutes looked disappointed. “Man, you guys always get the best assignments. Oh well. At least the briefings are always interesting.”

 

He shoved Gordon in the soldiers' direction, before turning to leave, the other brute trailing behind him.

 

Unceremoniously, Gordon was dragged to the nearest elevator, accompanied by the three soldiers.

 

* * *

 

One extremely long elevator ride and a copious amount of walking later, Gordon was face to face with the Arkham Knight.

 

He knew that one wrong move could lead to him being beaten or killed, but at the moment, he was too angry to care. This bastard had Barbara. Who knew what he had done to her, if she was even still- No. He wouldn't go. He _couldn't_ go there.

 

Acting on pure paternal instinct, Gordon walked straight up to the Knight, jabbing a finger at his chest. The soldiers who had brought him here made no move to stop him. “Where’s my daughter you son of a bitch?”

 

He couldn't be sure, since everything the Knight did sounded so mechanical, but Gordon thought he heard him chuckle. “Relax Commissioner. She’s fine. A little banged up from the accident she caused, but fine. You can see her just as soon as you answer a couple questions.”

 

Gordon let out a breath he hadn't known he’d been holding. He knew that he shouldn't take the Knight at his word, that he could be lying, but was relieved all the same. What father wouldn't be, at the news that their daughter was relatively unharmed.

 

“What do you want to know?” Gordon didn't want to betray Batman, but he would if he had to. Barbara was more important.

 

* * *

 

As Gordon made his way down the corridor, to where his daughter was being kept, he could help but think about what the Knight had asked him, what the Knight had said.

 

_How can you still believe in him? After what he let happen to Robin._

 

He had expected the Knight to ask him about Batman's plans, if he knew his identity, where his base of operations was, etc. He hadn't expected _that_ , or for the Knight’s voice to crack.

 

_Did you know that she works for him? That every bad thing that has ever happened to her is his fault?_

 

He wanted to believe that the Knight was lying, that there was no way that it was possible, but deep down he knew it was true. He always had, he just had never admitted it, not even to himself.

 

Then he heard Barbara’s voice-faint, so far away that he could just barely make out what she was saying-and couldn't dream of focusing on anything else. It had only been a couple of hours since he had last heard her speak, but it felt like a lifetime. “Are you done talking?”

 

The Knight shot down the hall, like a bat out of hell. Gordon didn't understand why, till he heard Crane’s voice, creepy as ever.

 

“I am. But you have barely begun. You'll be incoherent when my toxin dissolves the wall between your conscious mind and your suppressed, subconscious nightmares. But as those fears slowly recede, they'll take this pathetic defiance with them.”

 

“You’re still talking.”

 

“Very well-” The Knight burst through the door, cutting off Crane.

 

“Get the Hell away from her!” The Knight's voice was full of emotion, so much so that it confused Gordon. Why would he care what Crane did to Barbara? He was the one who kidnaped her, after all.

 

Crane looked like he was going to object, then thought better of it. He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Very well.”

 

He slowly made his way out of the room, pausing in the doorway to deliver a paying message. “Till next time, miss Gordon.”

 

The Knight waited till Crane was all the way down the corridor, then walked over to Barbara, seemingly assessing her for injuries. “He’s gone. Did he hurt you?”

 

Barbara didn't seem to hear him.

 

“Dad?” she breathed.

 

“Barbara.” Gordon ran to his daughter, hugging her tightly.

 

For one short moment, everything was okay. Then reality set back in. They were still captives, at the mercy of the Arkham Knight and Scarecrow.

 

The Knight was standing in the doorway, staring. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking with the mask on. Finally, he turned away and addressed the soldiers that had escorted them here.

 

“Archer, Reid, Lahey, you stay and keep guard. Smith, Roberts, Mann, you're dismissed.”

 

“Sir, I-”

 

“I said you're dismissed.”

 

Smith, Roberts, and Mann all but ran from the room.

 

“The only person allowed in this room is me. If Scarecrow comes back, make him wish he hadn't.” The Knight left, locking the door behind him.

 

Now that they were alone, Gordon looked Barbara over. She had some cut and scrapes as well as some bruising, but other than that, she was okay. He was surprised to find that she was sitting in a wheelchair, especially considering that it wasn't the one she normally used. A sweep of the room was equally surprising. There was a table against one of the walls holding an assortment of food, most of them Barbara’s favorites. On the opposite wall was a door that led to a wheelchair friendly restroom.

 

As ridiculous it seemed, someone had made sure to provide small comforts for Barbara. And he had a pretty good idea of who it was, considering the emotion in the Knight’s voice when he spoke to her. Gordon didn't know what to make of it. It felt like when he tried to solve a case without enough evidence. He was missing a key piece of information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve read my oneshot collection Insight, then you probably recognize some of the militia members. Speaking of Insight, I'm planning on updating soon. I know it’s been awhile since my last update, but I haven't forgotten about it. I’ve just been having some personal issues, and have been working on some other things. Anyway, I should be updating Insight in a few days.


	2. Batman

The Cloudburst was destroyed, the Arkham Knight was momentarily defeated, but Batman’s work was far from over. Scarecrow was still out there, the Commissioner still his hostage. He might have been too late to save Barbara or Ivy, but he could still save Jim. 

 

His gauntlet beeped, indicating that he had an incoming transmission. Bruce pressed a few buttons, and Alfred face appeared before him.

 

“Sir, the gas cloud is dissipating! You did it. You and Poison Ivy, I mean. We underestimate the humanity that remains within her.” 

 

“She’s gone, Alfred. Clearing the toxin took everything she had.”

 

“Oh, I see. Her final act was a noble one.”

 

“I need to find Scarecrow, before anyone else dies. Do you have any leads?”

 

“I'm afraid not, sir. But, there are other matters that also require your attention. With the toxin clear, now would be the perfect time to reassert your control of the city.”  

 

The transmission ended, just as an electronic billboard flashed to life, Scarecrow’s gruesome face taking up the screen.

 

“You actually believe you have won, don't you, Batman? Savor this fleeting delusion of victory. The Arkham Knight may have fled in terror, but now his army answers to me! For even as my toxin dissipates, it leaves behind a forsaken city, forever tainted by your failure. Tonight, the myth of the Batman dies and Gotham dies with it.” 

 

The billboard changed back to normal, signifying the end of Scarecrow’s rant. Bruce desperately wanted to go after him, to end this, but with no leads, it would be next to impossible to find him.

 

Instead, he focused on the numerous open cases he had been racking up all night. Even if he couldn't find Scarecrow, he could still make a difference in Gotham.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Bruce was growing impatient. He had rescued Selina, the missing members of the Station 17 fire crew, Mad Hatter’s hostages, Jack Ryder, and Nora Fries as well as apprehended Fire Chief Underhill, Two-Face, Firefly, Penguin, Azrael, Deacon Blackfire, Riddler, Lazlo Valentin, Killer Croc, Mad Hatter, and Ra’s al Ghul, and still had no leads on Scarecrow’s whereabouts.

 

He was pulling out of GCPD lockup, debating about where or not another scan of Gotham would yield any results, when Scarecrow hijacked the billboard again. This time, however, he wasn't alone; Deathstroke was with him, holding a sword to a hostage's neck. 

 

At first, Bruce assumed it was Commissioner Gordon, till the bag was ripped off the hostages head. Then, Bruce couldn't breathe. It was impossible, Bruce had seen the video of Joker killing him, but there Jason was, in full Arkham Knight armor, minus the helmet. 

 

Suddenly, Joker appeared on his windshield. “Let’s not fall out here, Bats. I might have told you a teeny tiny little lie. But, c’mon, look at the boy. You did good. We did good. You should be proud.”

 

Bruce ignored him. All he cared about right now was Jason. 

 

“I had wondered what you had done to make the Knight despise you so.” Scarecrow traced the J brand on Jason’s cheek with his finger. “Now it all makes sense. Unless you want to fail your precious Robin again, you will do as I say. There’s a storage depot in Kingston. Go there, alone. Prepare to take off that mask. Or your friends will die.” Scarecrow disappeared, Commissioner Gordon and Barbara, looking very alive for someone Bruce was positive had died earlier that night, taking his place for a moment, before the feed cut out. 

 

Without hesitation, he drove toward Kingston, keeping a lookout for the storage depot.

 

* * *

 

Abandoning the Batmobile on the bridge above the depot, Bruce continued on foot. Reaching the building, he paused. He knew he should call Alfred, Tim, and Dick, tell them goodbye, but he couldn't bring himself to. 

 

The Joker stood at the door, trying to dissuade him. “What? Are you crazy? You give up, and we’re done. Both of us! There's no coming back.”

 

Bruce ignored him, entering the building. The Joker met him on the other side. 

 

“Why give up? There’s so much more fun to be had out there. Think about it! All those heads to smash, all those bones to break. It’s like the world’s greatest theme park and you're crying to get off the ride.” 

 

Once again Bruce ignored him, walking down the hall and into a room with a large screen. Scarecrow’s face popped up on it as soon as he got close enough. 

 

“Your fears have got the better of you, I see. How fitting that I will win and Batman’s life will be over, not because of what I have done to your precious city, but because you are scared of what I will do to your friends, your family.”

 

The camera panned to show Jason, Barbara, and Commissioner Gordon, guarded by Deathstroke, before coming back to Scarecrow.

 

“They are your weakness, hiding just below the surface. I am sure that you are scared of what will happen when I tear that mask from your face. What will we find? Your true identity, or proof that without your mask you are nothing? Impotent. Powerless. Afraid. Leave your equipment on that table, and we can find out.” 

 

Bruce complied, surrendering to his utility belt.

 

“Now the truck.” 

 

It was hard to enter the truck, to serve himself up to Scarecrow on a silver platter. But he thought of Barbara and Jason, of how he couldn't fail them again. He thought of Jim, and how he was one of his closest friends. And after that, it was easy. 

 

* * *

 

Tied to a gurney, Bruce was transported into Arkham Mansion by Scarecrow. 

 

“Are you ready?”

 

“This isn't going to end how you think, Crane.” Not with the Joker still inside him. 

 

“Enough bravado. It’s too late for that. I don't care who you are but they will.” Scarecrow motioned to the television screens lining the wall, all tuned to news channels. “I'm going to rob them of hope. As they stare into your eyes, they will blame you. Failure will have a face and a name.”

 

He paused, walking toward his hostages. “It’s time. Mister Gordon. I would like you to do the honors.”

 

“Never.” 

 

Scarecrow made a gesture, and Deathstroke moved his blade under Barbara’s neck. 

 

“Take off that mask, or I’ll give the order for our friend here to kill her.”

 

Bruce tried to reassure him. “It’s okay.”

 

Gordon wasn't having it. “It’s not okay! You know what this means.” 

 

“It’s the end.” 

 

Gordon got up and walked over to Bruce. “When they find out who you are, they’ll be no hiding.”

 

“You need to trust me, Jim.” 

 

Gordon paused, considering what he was about to do. 

 

Scarecrow grew impatient. “Now!”

 

With no other choice, Gordon removed Bruce’s mask. 

 

Scarecrow sounded a little surprised. “Wayne? Bruce Wayne?” He readied the syringes attached to his hands. “Now the world can see you for what you truly are. A legend laid bare. Powerless. Human. Afraid.” 

 

He stabbed them into Bruce’s chest, injecting him with his toxin. And then the Joker took over.

 

* * *

 

It was over. He had won. He had beat the Joker, locked him away in the darkest corner of his mind. Now, all that was left was Scarecrow.

 

“Do you understand, Gotham? You have no savior. No more hope.” Scarecrow injected Bruce again. “No - more - Batman. I’ve won.”

 

“I'm not afraid, Crane.” 

 

“Impossible.” He pulled out his syringes and put a gun to Bruce's forehead. “Without fear, life is meaningless.”

 

And then Scarecrow pulled the trigger.

 


	3. Arkham Knight

It was like everything was in slow motion. Seconds had passed, but it felt like so much longer. 

 

When Scarecrow first put the gun to Bruce’s head, Jason had been relieved, if a little jealous. It was finally happening, Bruce was finally going to pay for what he let the Joker do to him. For abandoning him. For replacing him. 

 

But as Scarecrow pulled the trigger, it was like a switch flipped in his head. He didn't hate Bruce. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He did hate Bruce-for turning him into a child soldier, for not saving him-but he didn't want him dead. The Joker had brainwashed him into wanting to kill Batman, told him time and time again that everything that had happened to him, all the torture he had been forced to endure, was Bruce’s fault. 

 

But that wasn't exactly true, was it. Bruce had failed to save him, but he hadn't abandoned him. At least, that’s what Barbara had told him on their way to the Asylum. She said that he had mourned him, that the Joker had sent them a video of him killing Jason.

 

From the moment he escaped Joker’s grasp, Jason had known what he needed to do to make himself whole again, to fix what the Joker broke-kill Batman. But now, he wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure about anything.

 

Bruce was dead. Scarecrow had killed him, and Jason didn't know how what to do, how to feel. 

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason saw Deathstroke remove his sword from Barbara’s neck. He sheathed it and walked towards the door.

 

Scarecrow did not look amused. “Where are you going?” 

 

“That’s none of your business. I fulfilled my end of the contract. So I'm gone.”

 

“What about them?” Scarecrow pointed at his hostages.

 

“What about them?”

 

“They’re still alive.” 

 

Jason was surprised at Scarecrows words. He never killed on purpose. Dead men had nothing to be afraid of. But Jason, Barbara and the Commissioner were loose ends. And loose ends had to be dealt with.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I paid you to take care of them.”

 

“No. The Knight paid me to stay till the Bat was dead. And the Bat’s dead.” With that, Deathstroke exited the room. 

 

Nothing happened for a moment, the room tense and silent. Then Scarecrow aimed his gun at Barbara. Jason didn't think about what he was doing, he just moved on instinct. Without the threat of Deathstroke, escape was easy. In one quick moment, his hands were free of their bonds, and he was at Scarecrow’s side, knocking the gun from his hand. 

 

Jason subdued Scarecrow quickly, using the wall to knock him unconscious. Part of him wanted to kill Scarecrow for what he’d done. A bigger part wanted to take up Barbara’s offer to come back to the manor and heal. In the end, he did neither. Instead, he ran. He was confused, upset, and had no idea who he was. The only thing he was certain of was that he needed to be alone, that he needed to figure everything out by himself. 

 

* * *

 

A week later, Red Hood appeared, striking fear into Gotham’s Underworld. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is pretty short, but it felt like the perfect end to this story. So, I kept it like this.


End file.
